


Vultures and Other Birds

by d_aia



Series: Birds [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Gen, Minor Character Death, POV Original Character, POV Outsider, joker dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 19:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13910826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_aia/pseuds/d_aia
Summary: It’s June and if it’s June in Gotham the place to be is the Wayne Enterprises Quarterly Charity Dinner.  Everybody wants to be here and they want the proof of how important they are for having been invited in the newspapers, which is where Erika comes in. She has the dubious honor of being Wayne Enterprises’ Chief Communication Officer. Her job mostly consists of herding cats and putting out dumpster fires, but, at least, she can’t complain about the pay.*A Gothamite's POV.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the universe (and characters, locations, personal histories etc as are shown in them). This is the work of fanfiction.
> 
>  **Warnings: Canon Harm to Children (in the past), Attempted Rape, and, generally, Graphic Violence. _Please heed the warnings!_** If you find something else, tell me  & I'll mention here or tag. Thank you! 
> 
> Thanks & Acknowledgements: To Lex, who is an incredible friend :D. She also listens to me whining. Thank you so much!
> 
> A/N: The story takes place in a murky future, where Jason still has his fingers in the drug pie, has a set territory in Gotham (more like, a couple of streets), and goes on missions with Artemis and Bizzaro. He also outright states that he has been in Arkham and Blackgate. But none of this is known to the POV character. She'll find out some, but not nearly everything there is to know. If you're okay with that, then enjoy! :D

It’s June and if it’s June in Gotham the place to be is the Wayne Enterprises Quarterly Charity Dinner.  Everybody wants to be here and they want the proof of how important they are for having been invited in the newspapers, which is where Erika comes in. She has the dubious honor of being Wayne Enterprises’ Chief Communication Officer. Her job mostly consists of herding cats and putting out dumpster fires, but, at least, she can’t complain about the pay.

As she walks slowly around the room making sure that everybody behaves—they aren’t, none of them are, Erika wants to knock their heads together—she remembers that she had good reasons for taking the job. ‘A special project from the projects,’ was the name that the press used for Jason Todd and it was beyond insulting. It enraged her. She knew how the press worked, especially tabloids, but being from the same place as Todd, she knew what they had to do to survive, and putting up with entitled shits shouldn’t be among them. So, she resolved to protect him.

Erika never got the chance. She found out that he was dead the same week as her interview with Wayne Enterprises. Another case of too little too late, but she decided to go with the flow. A job was a job was a job. And, as she reminded herself before, it pays well.

A few months before, though, in February, the dead came back to life. It seemed like an odd thing to happen on the 14th, but there Todd stood—playing a prank on his brother, the workaholic. She rolled her eyes and changed directions to persuade or threaten Legal to get started on the paperwork to bring him back to life. They’ve been put to weirder work. It’s a done deal now, the only thing left is someone, like Wayne or Drake or even Fox, to actually request it and they would be on their way to various government agencies.

Erika, of course, has the press handled.  She has a simple but beautiful plan, which waits for the Waynes to reduce it to ashes. When they will inevitably do, she has four more plans, but, most probably, she’ll end up winging it. _Making it up as she goes along._ It must be said that she hates improvisation and wants to kill it with fire. However, that doesn’t mean she isn’t good at it. 

And, as if proving her right once again, one minute everybody’s having fun and, the second, the only person enjoying himself is the Clown.

Erika also hates clowns—the Joker isn’t the origin of her hatred, but he hasn’t helped.

The Joker enters the room with his usual drama. He has his goons, they have their guns, and they all scare people. It’s a whole production. Hell, every time he puts on a whole show and it keeps being horrifying in defiance of human nature that says a person can only handle so much before they become numb.

Now, the Clown’s talking. Laughing. Talking and laughing. Now, he’s pausing for effect. And then, he’s laughing again. 

Hyena.

If Erika lives, she already has a plan to handle the public relations fall out. It’s the same one she always ends up using, and, maybe she’s a little lazy, but it’s not like something actually changes. And if Erika dies, the succession order is well established in her department. Even the intern knows the plan.

“Do you have it in you?” the Joker askes Wayne, leaning toward Wayne’s face. The Joker yells, _“Do you?”_

A moment for the scream to echo in the room for maximum dramatic effect during which Joker leans back, his custom smirk stretching wide across his face, and then Joker pushes his face in Wayne’s once again. “I bet you don’t,” the Joker mock-whispers, but it’s not like anybody moves—not even his goons—so the sound carries. “What will you do?”

Erika missed the subject, but she guesses it’s something terrible and non-palatable.  This is Joker. It’s an easy inference to make.

“Which of his children will the Prince of Gotham choose _to kill_?” the Joker asks the room and laughs creepily.

In the first place, that question is clearly meant to confuse the situation. It misrepresents the situation, assuming Wayne as the aggressor, and Erika would never let that stand. In the second place, Erika can’t wait for the laugh to stop being creepy. Right now, she’s caught between being pissed off and terrified, and that’s not good enough. In the third place, that’s objectively horrifying. And finally, _what the fuck?!_

At a gesture from Joker, Damian Wayne, Grayson, and Drake are marched in the middle of the room.

“Well, which of the—” The Joker’s eyes land on Todd. They narrow and he looks dramatically between Wayne and Todd, making Erika curse under her breath. She knew it! “There’s another one,” the Joker sing-songs. “I thought you were dead.” He pouts, only to change after a second into a smirk. “Bring him here.”

Todd sneers.

“This is so fun!” Joker claps as two of the goons start moving toward Todd. Giggling madly, the Joker turns toward Wayne, stealing the crowd’s attention. They will eventually be able to put it all together, but, for now, Todd’s safe. Relatively safe, she means, as she watches Joker invade Wayne’s personal space again, to whisper loudly in his ear. “The more, the merrier. Now, wh—”

BANG!

There’s a bullet wound in Joker’s skull.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

There’s no more crazed laughter—somebody shot the Joker.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Somebody’s still shooting the Joker. The shots blend together, continuing long after the Joker’s dead. She’s paralyzed for a moment, struggling to understand what’s happening— _the Joker’s dead, he’s dead, he’s finally dead_ —until the gun starts clicking in a clear sign that it’s out of bullets. That’s when Erika looks for the shooter.

It’s Todd.

His face is blank. Possibly in shock, though she wouldn’t bet on it. The guests, they are in shock, they’re confused probably, still scared, finding their feet… But Todd’s just blank. His hands are steady and so are his breaths. If there’s any word that she could associate with him is ‘decisive.’ 

It’s worth noting, though, that the guests include Joker’s goons. They are possibly the most affected. Suddenly, their immortal boss is no more. Nerveless fingers drop the guns.

Right.

What the hell is going on here?

The Joker’s dead.

Jason Todd shot and killed him.

Right.

This is new. A happy deviation from the plan. So, first things first, damage control: the police are coming; no one tried to kick the corpse formerly known as the Joker and they won’t if the four of the security people who have stormed in have any say about it; guests need to be calmed; and Jason Todd looks like he’s about to run.

Not good.

Erika leaves the guests to her people and quickly makes her way to Todd.

“If you leave now, they’re going to hunt you down,” Erika begins talking quickly. “It’s a clear case of self-defense and defense of others so I wouldn’t worry about the outcome of this one.”

Todd turns to listen, but he doesn’t seem convinced.

“If there are other things, I should know about them, but you not only impressed the most important people in Gotham and offered them entertainment with the added bonus of staying alive, you also killed the Joker, which makes you the most popular person in Gotham right now.” Erika sees security heading for them, specifically Joker’s goon, whom Todd laid out when he got the goon’s gun, and gestures for Todd to follow her four feet two the right, still in the security ring. “It’s not a good idea to run, it’s not necessary and it will only make them chase you.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate you physically not sticking your talons in me, metaphorically isn’t much better,” Todd says looking down at her nails and tilting his head. “I really got to go. There’s no way this ends up okay for me.”

And Erika remembers.

_The guy mugged her and now he’s trying to…_

_No._

_Not again._

_NO!_

_She’s struggling and manages to get a punch in, but that only gets her punched in return. That’s fine. She’s had worse. As long as he doesn’t succeed, it’s fine._

_Suddenly, they’re not alone in the alley. The realization that he has friends makes her panic. She struggles harder. One hand is now free and she scrapes her nails viciously on the fucker’s face trying her best to gauge his eyes out. And…_

_He’s gone. Just… gone. Another man got him off her._

_Red Hood._

_Who is threateningly walking towards the guy with a gun in one hand and a knife in the other._

_“Excuse me,” she says. Her voice is rough and it hurts to speak. She swallows and tries again. “Mr. Hood?”_

_He half-turns. “Yeah?”_

_“Could I ask you not to kill him?” She sees the guy’s knife and heads toward it._

_“Uh… why?!” He gives a long sigh. “Do you actually think that he can chan—”_

_She interrupts him by swooping down, focused on the guy’s dick that is hanging out of his pants, and cuts it off._

_Or, tries to?_

_The knife’s not very sharp._

_“Oh.” Hood offers his knife. “Works better, I promise.”_

_It does. In no time, the guy’s watching his dick, screaming in… the fuck knows. Pain? Horror? He continues to watch as she steps on it. He sobs when she violently twists her foot and his dick disappears under her boot._

_“Thank you,” she tells Hood as she hands him back the bloodied knife. “I can’t wipe it off; it would look too cold blooded when the police get here.”_

_“Sure, no problem.” Hood shrugs and wipes it on his own jeans. “Are you sure you want him alive?”_

_“As opposed to him actually living without a dick?”_

_“He could come back.”_

_“Ordinarily, yes,” she admits and shakes his head. “But not him.” She’d make sure of it._

_“Now, and I don’t doubt for a second your… owl-like abilities?” Hood tilts his head. “Seems right. Or maybe a vulture?”_

_“If it must be something, I’d rather it be an owl.”_

_“Your choice.” Hood continues, “But I still got to ask, are you okay?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Are you sure you want to stay?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Hood nods. “I’ll be on the roof until the police get here.”_

_“Thank you.” She tries to smile over her heart pounding in her chest._

_“It’s why they pay us the big bucks.”_

_“For staying and for…” She swallows. “For stopping him in the first place.”_

_“Got to tell you,” Hood says, “your talons are a thing of beauty. You did plenty of damage. Remember that.”_

“There are few owls who hunt when there’s light,” Erika says lightly and meets Todd’s eyes when they snap to hers. “Has anybody seen you practicing your hobby? I thought you wore gloves. Our police department is over-reliant on fingerprints since they can’t get the budget for DNA testing. They’d have problems keeping the samples from all sorts of interested people, but that’s a different problem.” She knows because Selina has _thoughts_ on that.

“Arkham and Blackgate,” Todd answers like he’s pronouncing his death sentence. “I’m in the system.”

Erika shakes her head with a smile. “Unless it was in the past six months, it doesn’t matter. The Blackgate’s archives went up in flames three times this year and Arkham had a convenient flood about two months back. The network gets razed every couple of years and this year it was in January. There’s nothing left,” she assures him for once thankful for Selina’s rants. “The police, on the other hand, is another problem. There are two things: the officers and their notes and/or reports. But—”

“I was brought straight to Arkham.”

“How lucky,” Erika says dryly, not liking the implications.

“I was brought to Arkham, given an evaluation, told I was fine, transferred to Blackgate, poisoned the inmates, and then escaped as they shipped me back to Arkham,” Todd tells her almost challengingly.

“So I said, you don’t need to run.”

Todd studies her intently for a few long seconds before he nods. “I’m dead. Legally, I mean.”

“The paperwork for you to come back to life is ready to be submitted,” Erika replies. “The story is that you had amnesia, but, Mr. Todd, that’s not a story you will tell for now. You should avoid reporters as much as possible during your perp walk, say ‘no comment’ when you can’t, and start playing Mozart in your head if you see Vicki Vale because she’s known to find leads in people’s nonverbal language.”

“Got it,” Todd says doubtfully.

“I hope you know about your right to remain silent to the police and are planning on exercising it,” Erika says just as a reminder. “What about a lawyer? Will your father get you one or should I talk to someone on your behalf and get them to call you a lawyer? I could also call you a lawyer myself.”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll check.” Erika looks around. She wasn’t expecting to get that much time with Todd by herself and the lack of family is starting to get concerning. “Try to keep calm, we can and will deal with everything that arises.” She clocks Davis, well-known defense attorney, talking to Wayne and coming in their direction. “Here comes your lawyer, Mr. Davis.  I’ll leave you two alone, but I’ll be back in time to distract the press.”

Todd nods and twists around.

“It’ll be fine,” Erika says and, taking care to do it when he can see her, she pats him on the upper arm. “It will.”

Todd gives another short nod, Davis is there, and making the introductions her job is somewhere else.

So Erika makes her way where the Waynes are huddled together.

“Excuse me, while Mr. Todd is with Mr. Davis talking about his approach once the police come, I was wondering if we should get try to get ahead of the press in bringing Mr. Todd back to life in the next two or three days,” Erika says as if she’s tone-deaf to the situation at hand, which consists of them here and Todd there. Also, the only place where there’s any wondering going on is in her words.

Wayne blinks. “How would you do that, Ms. Aiza?”

“It would only need a short declaration from you, Mr. Wayne, possibly made in a press conference, stating that you are saddened that Mr. Todd could not officially rejoin the family on his own terms, but your reunion has brought you much joy. You hope they will be respectful of your family’s privacy in such a time of great emotional turmoil and they will be patient until you find your feet.” Erika doesn’t even try to smile, concentrating instead on keeping a blank expression on her face. “That and a few soundbites from his siblings that they are glad for his presence should be all.”

Wayne’s eyes narrow, but his smile is wide. “Don’t I hire the best people?” he asks his children, most of whom are even worse actors.

“Of course,” Erika continues, “that will mean exactly nothing when the press finds out from the people present that you left him isolated—even if it’s only done for a minute to reassess.”

Grayson literally jumps in realization—hurray!—and hurries toward his brother where he proceeds to attach himself to Todd in an over-enthusiastic hug. Erika misses a moment because she signals the photographer to take a picture, and, when she looks again, Todd is grumpily glaring at her. She raises a shoulder.

“I’m not sure I like your tone,” Wayne warns.

Erika swallows a sigh. She and Wayne never got along. “I apologize, sir. It won’t happen again.” She has been saying different combinations on the same theme since she first managed to avert a disaster involving water, a duck, glue, and three redheads. What exactly she stopped, she never found out, but the possibilities haunt her to this day. Her eyes slip behind Wayne where Kyle is trying to get her attention. “If that is all?”

“It is,” Wayne confirms.

Erika, with the satisfaction that she, at least, got one of them to offer some support, nods to them and is on to her next task.

“They are starting to remember they have phones,” Kyle says. “Do you want to delay the devices or short them all?”

“Let’s go with delay for now, ten-fifteen minutes should be enough. I’ll make a short announcement about it,” Erika replies. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to hurry you a bit.”

Kyle nods. “You want the picture with the brothers leaked before you finish.” He’s silent for a bit. “It’s doable. Do you want anything to go with that?”

“I think it’s best to leave the information aspect to the police department and their leakers.”

“It is if you want to put pressure on them and the DA.”

Erika smirks. “Keep me posted, please.”

“Will do,” Kyle acknowledges.

Erika clears her throat and gets the attention of those closest to her. It spreads until everyone is listening, some stopping in the middle of conversations and some even startled by the silence. She calmly waits for one more beat.

“Thank you for your patience,” Erika starts. “I am sure you are all aware of the police procedures, the importance of giving your declaration, and thus your continued presence here despite the traumatic events. However, it goes further than that and it seems to me that you show unusual courage and fortitude today.”

She pauses a bit while they pat themselves on the back.

“Unfortunately, your trials tonight are not over. The Joker’s mischief combined with so many of you having tried to contact loved ones has caused a delay in communications. Sadly, we kindly ask for more of your patience this trying night.” Erika can’t do reassuring, but she smiles slightly and hopes that no one is looking too carefully. “We have our best engineers at it and everything should be back to normal in no time at all. Thank you.”

Turning to Kyle, Erika receives a nod.

Good.

Next step is positioning herself in such a way that the police officers don’t send her packing. She has two choices, either by the door or as part of the crowd. A good chance of her accomplishing her goal is allowing everybody else to lay into them. In the crowd might make her seem as one of them, but by the door seems too obviously calculated. Pondering the problem for a bit she makes the decision to head deep into the crowd, in the opposite direction from the door. Maybe it’ll be enough for the police not to be too suspicious.

Erika smiles, soothes, and listens, all the while waiting and watching.

The police don’t disappoint—they come, see, and find themselves the target of much of the crowd’s displeasure when they try to arrest their hero.

By the time Erika gets to them, they’re downright thankful for the calm click of her heels on the marble floors that cuts through the noise. “Shall we?” she asks a haggard detective.

“Yes, ma’am,” the detective says. She can see that he knows exactly who she is, he just doesn’t care anymore. “After you?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dare,” Erika answers pleasantly.

The detective snorts loudly, but she ignores it. He gives Todd a little push. Mr. Davies is two steps behind them and she follows half a step behind him.

As they reach the door, she feels somebody’s eyes on her. Carefully, she scans the room over her shoulder and finds… Wayne. A shiver makes its way down Erika’s spine. She’s received nicer looks. Less calculated ones too.

What the hell is that about?

Erika tries to push it to the back of her mind and mostly succeeds. After all, she has to pay attention to what follows or Todd will suffer. She draws a deep breath, and, after she judges that the press has had enough footage but not enough time to annoy Todd into saying something, she steps down the stairs.

The press immediately turns.

Thankful for her distinctive sounding shoes—they help her _so_ much—Erika stops half-way down so the police can get Todd out of here without issue.

“Wayne Enterprises would like to assure everyone that none of our guests have been harmed,” Erika says. “We are looking into the possibilities of how they might have managed to get through security, but we are grateful that the guests, employees, and the Wayne family are all alive. As for Mr. Todd, we trust the police to do what’s right and let him go. After all, we wouldn’t be alive if not for him.” She waits a beat for the photographers to do their thing and Davies to get into his car. “Thank you.”

*

“We are happy that the District Attorney chose not to press charges. They did the right thing and the Wayne family is happy to be reunited. We’d like to thank you for your patience and announce that tomorrow Mr. Bruce Wayne will give a statement. Thank you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Three days, one statement from Wayne, four press conferences for her, ten intentional leaks, two nonintentional ones that resulted in a firing, and now… this.

Erika takes a deep breath.

“It was bound to happen,” she whispers and continues typing.   

 *

“What’s this?”

Erika turns at Wayne’s question, she hasn’t even known he was in, and frowns. “Excuse me, sir?”

Wayne opens a folder and takes out a familiar piece of paper. “What’s this?”

“My resignation,” Erika answers, taken aback.

Wayne lifts an eyebrow and Erika raises a shoulder not knowing what the problem is.

“I see.” Wayne gives a short sigh. “Follow me, please.”

Erika doesn’t know what he wants but goes after Wayne as he leads her to his office.

“Take a seat, if you want to,” Wayne invites. “Is any of it true?”

Appreciating the lack of beating around the bush, Erika says, “Yes.”

“Were you a prostitute?”

Wayne shakes the newspaper on the table. Her own picture, yellow-green eyes and dark skin enhanced, is superimposed on a black cat. But that offence is the least of her worries. The newspaper details her ways of earning enough to support herself through school.

“No, I was an escort.” Erika swallows a sigh. “It’s illegal to be a prostitute, but not to be an escort.”

“Handy distinction.” Wayne looks at the newspaper again. “If it’s not illegal why resign over it?”

“It’s frowned upon,” Erika says. What she doesn’t say is, _‘Like you are doing now.’_

“You are an orphan who lived to be a crafty street kid in Gotham and worked as an escort to be able to afford the Ivy League your wits got you into.”

Erika doesn’t say anything. It’s the truth. And besides, she knows what she lived through.

“Erika Aiza is not your name.”

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s your legal name now, but you changed it. It used to b—”

“That wasn’t my name,” Erika interrupts. “The orphanage gave it to me. I was abandoned without a note.”

“So they named you—”

“From Jane Doe to Jane Dove,” Erika acknowledges, interrupting once again. She hates that name but it’s still better if she says it. “They prided themselves on their originality.” 

“Right.” Wayne opens the folder again. “Your four-bedroom apartment is home to nine people.”

“Eight,” Erika corrects, feeling cold.

“All street kids. One—the one you omitted, I presume—underage. None of them contribute,” Wayne continues undeterred.

“Wayne Enterprises pays me well and some of them choose to help when they’ve gotten financially stable.”

“You run a halfway house.”

Erika doesn’t comment.

“Why risk everything?” Wayne asks.

“I didn’t.”

“Really?” Wayne gestures to the newspaper. “You could have taken a step-back and no one would be interested in your past. You’d still have a job and been able to help those people that depend on you for their next meal.”

“I couldn’t take a step back,” Erika snaps. “‘A special project from the projects.’”

Wayne’s expression turns blank.

“One of us gets a chance and what do they do?” Erika spits bitterly, but her face is carefully neutral. “Laugh, accuse, _assume_ , make his new life that much harder than it has to be. He was the one I took the job for, I was supposed to do something about that, but—,” she cuts herself off.

“…You were too late.” Wayne smiles humorlessly as he looks at his folder. “Same week.”

Erika swallows and nods.

“You stayed.”

“I thought you might do it again,” Erika says softly.

“I did it, only with the wrong type of person.”

“There’s not a wrong type of person for that.”

“Still.”

“I needed the money and I like the work the company’s doing.”

“You help people,” Wayne says and it makes her raise her eyes because she has never heard him speak quite like that. He lifts the folder. “You help a lot of people.”

Erika snorts. “People help themselves. I offer the conditions, but more than half of them end up on the streets again. Drugs, debt, crime. They are more powerful than I could ever hope to be. I’ve accepted it.”

“And yet you try.” Wayne leans back in his chair. “You tried for Jason.”

“Mr. Todd was an opportunity to actively do something instead of sitting on the sidelines and hoping.”

“Are you in love with my son?”

Erika frowns. “No.”

“Because you still risked a lot.” Wayne narrows his eyes. “You had a superb strategy, why not let anyone else take the spotlight?”

“Ego.”

“Try again.”

Erika looks at Wayne and he looks back. He has a very intent stare, she doesn’t know if he wants to frighten her or that’s just who he is, but she feels herself grow more defiant the longer it goes on. She carefully takes a breath.

 Boy, was she wrong about Wayne.

“I didn’t do everything by myself, Mr. Wayne.”

“I don’t doubt it, but you still haven’t answered my question.”

That’s it.

“I don’t trust them with something so important,” Erika says, beginning haltingly but finishing with her chin up. And she isn’t done, “There wasn’t time to go over the statements with them and one wrong word in the precise right tone or the right word said in wrong tone might’ve spelled disaster. You, your family, the press, the police, the DA, the mayor, the Internet… it’s like juggling cats. The coverage needed to become a believable story that was slowly discovered by whoever follows it to have uncertainties and flaws, yes, but ultimately led to the natural conclusion: that Jason Todd is human, and anyone critiquing him is simply _wrong_.”

There’s silence after that and Erika takes a breath. “There was a delicate balance and I couldn’t, in good conscience, leave it to someone else to untangle.” She might have overshared. A bit. But it’s too late now. She clenches a fist and waits for a reaction.

“All at the cost of the life you built.”

“It’s not.”

Wayne ignores her and asks, “Was it worth it?”

“Yes.”

“Was it worth facing the press after what was written?”

“Yes,” Erika answers chuckling. Why should she care about that?

“Was it worth facing the people you work with?”

“Yes.” Erika isn’t ashamed.

“Was it worth facing the people that live with you?”

“They know.” She leans forward. “Maybe they didn’t have to do it, but kids who lived on the streets _know_.”

Wayne’s expression becomes blank for a second and Erika leans back satisfied.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to relax, take a few days off.”

Wayne is taken aback and she half-smiles.

_What now, big man?_

“I meant for a job.”

“As I said—”

Wayne’s expression lights up in realization. “You’ve been headhunted.”

“By six companies _after_ the news broke.” Erika looks briefly. “I don’t play with my people’s lives, Mr. Wayne. I wouldn’t even if I hadn’t been contacted by anyone.”

“But you guessed you would.”

Erika nods.

“Why the resignation then?”

“I hadn’t disclosed the information about my past—”

“Good thing you didn’t, otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten a chance to prove yourself,” Wayne says, cutting her off. “And you did.”

Erika takes a deep breath. “According to the Code of Conduct in my contract—”

“Is _this_ what your resignation is about?”

“Yes,” Erika answers, not understanding.

“That is a non-objectionable reason for firing you.”

“I know.”

“ _If_ we decide to do it.”

Erika blinks. _“I am aware.”_

“If, on the other hand, we decide _not_ to fire you, you’re fine.”

“Until the next time I do something the people above me don’t approve of,” Erika says and sneers.

“No, actually.” It’s Wayne’s turn to lean forward in a move he’s subtly mocking. “If we knew about it and didn’t do anything, it’s our fault.”

“That is better, but still not good enough.”

Wayne chooses to change the subject in an obvious move that probably signifies that they’ll get back to it. “Are you Catwoman?”

“No,” Erika says, barely suppressing her eye-roll.

“When asked you answered…” Wayne trails off, looking for the quote.

“I don’t play with my food.” Erika knows Selina, she’s a friend and she helped her out many times, but Erika really doesn’t.

“Jason loved that,” Wayne says with a sad smile. “They all did, but he was over the moon. You’re something of a role model. He respects you.”

“And I do him.” Erika studies Wayne. “It’s not a bad thing, us knowing and respecting each other. I’m sure he loves you very much, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need somebody who’d understand that side of him at an instinctual level. It doesn’t make his love any less.”

“But it does mean I don’t understand.”

“You understand some aspects, others you understand from different circumstances, and others you don’t understand at all, but it’s the same for him,” Erika tells Wayne. “And for me. I’m sure there are aspects I couldn’t understand, just as he can’t for me. No one’s life is exactly the same.”

Wayne shakes his head and Erika is sure that he will ignore her.

“Have you broken the law, Ms. Aiza?” Wayne asks. “You may not be Catwoman, but that tends to be very specific.”

Erika chuckles. “You know I have.” She looks pointedly down at the folder.

“This? I didn’t mean this.”

“What did you mean then?”

“You sound like someone who is waiting to find loopholes.”

“I don’t like wearing a costume.” Erika keeps it as general as possible. Plus, in Gotham, that means she’s not any of the big players. “Not even for Halloween. I do sometimes have to wear a mask for one function or another, but everybody knows who I am. I don’t have the patience for a good disguise.”

Wayne waits.

“I’m not a drug lord and I’m not part of a mob or gang. I don’t really know what you want me to tell you.” Erika raises a shoulder. “I’m not as innocent as Gotham gets, but I’m close.”

“Gotham doesn’t do innocent.”

Erika splays her hands and shrugs. _What do you expect then?_  

“Fair enough,” Wayne says, nodding. He snaps her folder closed. “Ms. Aiza, we’re not firing you.” He pulls out her resignation and hands it to her. “Whether you chose to leave or not, that’s entirely up to you, but as far as we’re concerned, you do great work.”

Taking it with a frown, Erika has too many thoughts clamoring for her attention. But she opens her mouth and asks, “How about a raise?”

Wayne’s eyebrow lifts, but he seems amused. “Done.”

“I…” Who’s Erika kidding, she hates the work LexCorp is doing and none of the others posed an interest. But can she trust Wayne? Erika raises her eyes, studies him, prepares her backup plans, and rips the paper. She’ll get her answer in time. “I appreciate that.”

Wayne huffs a few times and she recognized it as chuckles. Small, silent, barely there chuckles. They sound oddly charming.

“Are you going to do something? Against Mallard.” Wayne shakes the newspapers. “I detect a distinct a lack of threats.”

“I don’t make threats, Mr. Wayne,” Erika says, almost smiling. “They have no intimidation value in Gotham so all that’s left is that they see it coming.”

“Well—” they both say at the same time and then they fall silent with understanding smirks on their faces.

“I’m not much for terrifying people,” Erika says, breaking the silence.

Wayne keeps smirking, which is… _interesting._

_*_

Erika is hurrying down the street when her papers slip. She’s not paying attention, between talking on her phone and almost running, and continues on her way. Before she reaches the corner, she almost bumps into Mallard, but luckily swerves in time. They don’t say anything to each other.

*

“Is there a reason you’re on a random roof in your sports bra?” Red Hood asks wryly. “Or is that something that just happens?”

“Um… both?” Erika grabs her black t-shirt and puts it on. “Happy?”

“I guess?”

“What are you doing here?” Erika asks as she searches in her bag for her binoculars.

_C’mon, c’moooon._

“I saw you running,” Todd replies and sounds suspicious. “What are you looking for?”

“Binoculars.” As if summoned they appear by her hand. She swears she already searched there. “And thank you.”

“Yeah.” Todd looks around. “What are we doing here?”

“Well,” Erika says as she reaches the edge of her roof. “You are being a knight in polished helmet and I am… sightseeing.”

Mallard has found the papers, put two and two together, but is waffling.

“Right.” Todd probably picked up the delivery of that from his father. Or his father picked it up from him. It’s just a lot of incredulity for a flat delivery. “And what are we sightseeing?”

Mallard is looking around, then upwards, and Erika ducks out of sight taking Hood with her.

“I promise I’m not feeding anyone his penis,” Erika says sincerely.

“That’s great, considering there are only two guys in range and I’m attached to mine,” Todd lobs back. “Who’s that guy?”

“John Mallard.”

Todd looks between Mallard and Erika, working it out. “Okay, but are you _suuuure_ you’re not feeding him his dick? Because that’s totally doable.”

“Yes.”

“Did someone say ‘dick’?” Nightwing—no, that’s Dick Grayson’s voice—asks.

Whoa.

“Am I supposed to—you suck at—you’re just…” Todd splutters at the number of possible answers and ends up saying none of them.

“Are we in your territory?” Erika saves Todd, not taking her eyes or her binoculars off Mallard. “Do I have to ask for permission before I use the roof?”

Right now, Mallard is having a staring contest with the envelope.

“No and no,” Grayson answers coming closer. “What are we—”

“Doing?” Red Robin finishes. No, Drake finishes. “I’m asking that because it looks like we’re stalking somebody and this it’s my territory, there’s no stalking here.”

And shit! Another one. They have a little brother too—which could very well be Robin. Also, there’s no way Wayne is anybody but Batman. Did she say shit already?

“Hypocritical,” Erika replies a bit breathlessly. Who can blame her? “It’s when somebody acts against their stated beliefs.”

Drake shifts, she can hear it, and probably turns to her. “What do you mean?”

“Only that I personally defended you against five stalking accusation,” Erika shoots back. “And they had pictures to prove it.”

Yes! Mallard took the papers, gave them a quick look, and scurried home. Revenge is close. Erika turns to follow when a staff stops her.

“What is it?” Erika asks testily.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Drake replies.

Erika suppresses a sigh. “You _do_ know that I am able hear you.”

Drake takes a step back.

“And no, no amount of lowering your voice will help either Grayson or you when I’ve heard you both constantly for over four years,” Erika says, exasperated.

Todd laughs loudly. “Serves you right.”

“At least she didn’t recognize our word choice,” Drake tells Todd grumpily.

“Where are we going?” Grayson embraces his denial like he does his brothers—all in. “How are you getting there?”

“Roofs,” Erika answers, stopping to scoop up her bag.

“Do you jump on rooftops now?” Todd asks, sounding excited.

“I used the _stairs_ to get on this one.” Erika hops on the other building. “And you can step to the next one?”

Drake grumbles. “Who are we stalking?”

“John Mallard,” Todd replies.

“Oh, he _is_ a dick,” Grayson says as he rises from his flip across.

“Thank you.” Erika reaches the next building. She’s grateful she doesn’t have a fear of heights. As it is, she jumps, doesn’t land right, and hurts her foot.

Immediately, Robin’s there to steady her. “Incompetents,” he says, sneering at his brothers. And yup, Damian Wayne.

Erika rolls her eyes. It’s not serious. She hops a couple of times on the other foot, and the pain lessens. Nothing is broken. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“I’m embarrassed for all of us,” Todd says, coming closer. He makes an aborted gesture to check her foot. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Erika assures him while taking out her binoculars. “I just landed wrong.” She silently counts the windows of the building across. “Are you staying?”

“We’d like to find out what you’re up to,” Grayson says earnestly.

Erika lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. “That’s fine, but most of you are dressed up in the most obnoxious colors imaginable and that might be an impediment.”

“An impediment to what?” Damian Wayne asks.

“Stalking,” Drake offers.

And Grayson completes it. “We’re stalking Mallard.”

Wayne is silent in a way that makes Erika think of body parts flying. “Tt. Did you do something to him?” He sounds eager in a truly creepy way that she… well, in a way that she approves of.

Good thing Erika isn’t his parent.  

“Just passed by him on my way up,” Erika says.

They all look at her dubiously.

“Hey, we need snacks,” Grayson says.

Drake nods. “And someone needs to secure the city before we all bail.”

“I’m staying here,” Todd calls dibs.

“I’ll come back after I distract Batman,” Wayne says immediately afterward.

Grayson is already gone.

“I meant me.” Drake sighs. “I’ll secure the—whatever.” He fires the grappling gun and disappears into the darkness.

“Is he all right?” Erika asks, frowning and turning to his brothers.

“Tt.” Then Wayne is gone too.

“I don’t know,” Todd answers her, shrugging. “You’d know better.”

The answer’s ‘no,’ or possibly ‘no way.’

“He fell for the bait,” Todd adds.

“Drake?”

“Mallard.”

“I don’t—”

“I was following you, remember?”

“Yes,” Erika admits, knowing she was caught.

“What was in that envelope?”

“Things he’s not supposed to know about a certain company, much less write about.”

“Wayne Enterprises?”

“No.”

Todd tilts his head. “You told B you aren’t a villain.”

“I’m not.”

“Really?”

Erika is positive somebody’s imitating somebody here. “Interpol asked for a favor. There are a few things they want out, but they want to lead back to them,” she explains. “I’m not one of the people you deal with—permanently or otherwise—and, I think we’re both clear on how used to leaping across rooftops I’m not. But I _will_ risk it for the opportunity to see his face when he gets the call that he’s fired.”

“But the Interpol—”

“Oh, once it becomes clear the information’s out there they can do whatever it is they do.”

“Why?” Todd asks.

“For fuck’s sake, it’s the Interpol.” Erika doesn’t sigh, but she really wants to. “If they want something and you have no reason to object, which you usually don’t or else they wouldn’t call you, you’re better off doing it. All the alphabet soup agencies operate like that and, even though they don’t exactly approve of my working with the Interpol, they’re okay with it as long as I don’t do anything to mess with our country’s security.” She takes a deep breath. “Which is the usual BS for we can’t stop them, don’t become a traitor. It’s common when working in the communications field, Todd.”

Todd backs down, but he does add, “Jason.”

“Erika,” she answers with a nod.

Jason plays with his knife. It sounds slick. “I never thought about it.”  

“This time,” Erika says, “they had some rumors to share. You better not show your face in Germany.”

“Erika!”

“Jason.”

“Is the Interpol blackmailing you?”

“No,” Erika denies. They aren’t. “Usually, they ask for favors without offering anything in exchange. This time, they did. It’s a change, sure, but I’m not positive it’s a bad thing.”

“If you wanted to get away from us, you chose the wrong fucking road,” Todd warns. He rolls his shoulders, making his jacket creak. “What did they say?”

“Not much,” Erika says. “Just that the German police didn’t want to arrest you but that they’re weary and would prefer not to see you.”

“It could be worse.”

Erika snorts and wants to jump to another subject with an ease that surprises her. Usually, it happens with her family, but she can’t have reached that point with Jason. There was no way. “My arms are getting tired,” she hears herself say.

“Imagine if you somehow had zoom lenses attached and you wouldn’t need to lift a finger.”

“What are you—” Erika turns and takes in his helmet. “I hate you.”

Jason laughs. “I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to comment (or just talk to me) you can do it here or on my [tumblr](http://e-alexandrescu.tumblr.com/).


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